


The Book Club

by TriDogMom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book Club, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Old Ladies Flirting, public spanking, semi-public dry humping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24543265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDogMom/pseuds/TriDogMom
Summary: Lucius attends a Muggle book club as part of his rehabilitation after the war. Little does he know they book they're reading is all about sex. And what happens when he finds out Hermione Granger is in the same book club?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 48
Kudos: 235
Collections: Budding Desires Spring Fest





	The Book Club

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Budding_Desires](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Budding_Desires) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Hermione and Lucius meet at a bookclub. Hermione is suspicious of his motives. Despite the serious discussions in the bookclub , somehow Lucius figures out Hermione is single. Lucius seduces Hermione and convinces her to try out some of her steamier desires

**Week One**

_Merlin, help me._

I looked around the small room in the back of the London bookshop and bit back a sigh. The room was filled with middle aged — and older — women. This was a nightmare. There was one woman, ugly little creature, that kept licking her lips as she stared at me. Like I, Lucius Malfoy, would ever think to debase myself with the troll-goblin-hag hybrid that made up her genetics. 

I didn’t want to be here. Who would willingly spend Thursday evenings discussing books with strangers unless they had to? Not me. But, alas, I didn’t have a choice. 

Thanks to my… Let’s call it a lapse in judgement when it came to Tom Riddle… Minister Shacklebolt was making me interact with Muggles on a regular basis. I spent the year after the war on house arrest where I was forced to talk to a Squib that was the Minister’s cousin and a Muggle therapist three times a week. 

The man, John, had been nice enough. Until I walked in on him and Narcissa having sex in Draco’s bedroom one afternoon a week before our confinement was over. 

In a house with over twenty bedrooms, why they had to choose our son’s, I had no idea. Poor Draco — who had walked into his room first, intent on showing me his new bespoke Muggle suit — had screamed and immediately begged me to Obliviate him. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t have wanted to see my mother dressed in a Hogwarts’ uniform asking her ‘Professor’ to give her ‘an O’ on my bed either. 

The next week when Minister Shacklebolt met with us to go over the details of our probation period, he had been nice enough to sign the divorce papers for me. Thank Salazar for an airtight marriage contract because Narcissa left with nothing but the clothes I decided to let her keep, the tacky Black family jewelry she had come with, and a wizened old house elf that had a flatulence problem. 

I hadn’t been in love with Narcissa in years, so I wasn’t sad to see the backside of her. And without her penchant for shopping, the gold in my vaults would only increase. We were set up by our parents and any chemistry we had before was long gone. I really didn't care that she was sleeping with someone else; It was the fact that she wasn’t discreet about it. No one ever knew about the mistresses I had over the years. I did feel bad for Draco though. Luckily he was able to find a new therapist in London to help him with what he saw. 

The first three months of my probation, I was required to familiarise myself with the Muggle world before I was given a specific task. I had a tracking charm on my wand — along with monitoring charms to track my magic — and Auror Potter was responsible for checking in on me weekly. We went over how many hours a week I spent outside of the magical enclaves in England. 

Potter had been a surprise to me. You would think that after I gave his girlfriend a horcrux, dueled with him in the Ministry, and tried to hand him over to the Dark Lord in my home, he would hate me. But the little brat had matured and was actually quite helpful to me and Draco. 

He had escorted us into Muggle London the first time we went and explained how things were different. It had been a long weekend filled with a trip to the cinema, which I liked; a ride on the Underground, which was horrifying; food from multiple countries — turns out Muggles don’t have to travel to experience different cuisines; plastic cards that contained your money; and Muggle alcohol, which was far superior to even the best Ogden’s. 

Now, I was required to build relationships with Muggles, interact with the same ones multiple times. After getting a bank account set up that was linked to Gringotts I felt comfortable enough to be out on my own. I still needed to find a way to meet people. Harry had heard about a book club that was starting. So, here I am, a copy of a book called _Different Shades of Black_ that I purchased today in hand. 

“Welcome!” a warm voice said from behind me.

I turned to see a plain looking woman sticking her hand out towards me. Gripping it, I went to kiss it like I normally would, but remembered Harry’s advice that Muggle women shake hands. 

“Thank you for having me,” I replied.

“I’m Claire, and I lead the group. It’s rare we get a young man in here. It will be nice to have a male perspective as we read. Especially this book. Are you doing this for a uni credit?”

 _Uni credit?_ I racked my brain trying to remember what a Uni was. _Muggle continuing education for people when they leave school._

“I believe I am much too old to be in uni. I am here because I like to read and am looking forward to interacting with like minded individuals.” Or at least that is what Potter told me to tell people who asked. 

“You don’t look like you could be older than thirty,” she said, looking me up and down. 

All thanks to the magic in my veins and the potions in my cupboards. Once a wizard was around twenty-five they physically aged at half the rate of Muggles.

“I assure you I am. I have a nineteen year old son.”

Claire excused herself to greet a new woman walking into the room and I made my way over to prepare a cup of tea.

“Is your son as handsome as you are?” a second lady, who looked oddly familiar, asked. “Because my daughter — she’s parking the car then will be right in — is nineteen and I think she’d like the look of him. Especially if he has a haircut like yours.”

I had decided to cut my long hair off last week because it didn’t fit in when in the Muggle world. Now it was short on the sides and long on the top in a pompadour style. The hairdresser said he was going for a ‘modern James Dean’ look. Whoever he was. 

“It’s similar,” I told her. “His is shaved on the sides instead.”

“I’m Jean. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m–”

“Lucius Malfoy?” a surprised voice cut him off. 

_Well, fuck. Of all the book clubs he could have joined._

“Hello Miss Granger,” I greeted her. 

Now I knew why Jean looked so familiar. If you aged Hermione thirty years, they would be twins. Same wild curls, similar petite build, and the same cinnamon coloured eyes. Whoever married Miss Granger was going to be _very_ lucky because her mother was a looker. 

“You two already know each other?” Jean asked. “That’s wonderful. I was just asking Lucius if his son was as handsome as he is. You know I hate that you’re still single, dear.”

“Yes, thank you, mum.” Hermione was a brilliant shade of red. “As handsome as his son is, I don’t think I’m his type. Draco likes girls with more looks than substance.”

“Draco? That kid that was turned…” Jean looked around before correcting herself. “I mean… had a fondness for ferrets?”

Hermione laughed and I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Turning a student into a ferret wasn’t acceptable, but as Draco had suffered no lasting damage, I could see the humour in the situation. 

“I believe his _fondness_ for ferrets was less severe than your daughter’s love of cats,” I teased. 

I had laughed until I cried when Severus Snape had to report Miss Granger’s unfortunate Polyjuice accident to the Hogwarts’ Board of Directors. What I wouldn’t have given to see her with a tail. Jean looked confused, but before she could ask for more details, she was cut off. 

“As amusing as this is,” Hermione said. “I think we should find seats.”

“Oh, Lucius you must sit by us,” Jean said. “It isn’t often I get to meet people who know my daughter.”

Making our way over to the circle of chairs, I motioned for the Granger women to sit before I took the chair next to Hermione. She said something to her mother before she turned and gave me a hard look. 

“What are you doing here?” she hissed. 

“I believe I am going to read this book and talk about it. Or did I misunderstand what a book club is?”

“Don’t get smart with me. I meant what are you doing in a Muggle book club? The Pompous Pureblood Prats aren’t having one this month?”

“It’s part of my probation, if you must know.”

“Probation?”

I couldn’t answer her because Claire stood up to start the meeting. Only finding out about the club yesterday, I hadn’t had time to look over the book yet. Luckily, this meeting was more about getting to know each other and we weren’t required to read the first few chapters until next week. The paper she handed me that had the reading schedule didn’t look too difficult. 

Everyone went around the room and introduced themselves. Hermione laughed as the ugly lady, Anges, winked at me and said she ‘had a thing for blonde men.’ I was surprised when Hermione introduced herself and said she was taking a gap year before deciding what to do next. That didn’t seem like her and I was determined to ask her why. Most of the women were either retired or didn’t work. Telling people that you were independently wealthy and didn’t _have_ to work sounded rude, so I skipped over my career and talked about my love of gardening, renovating my home, and spending time in my library. 

As everyone was leaving, Agnes tried to chat me up as Hermione laughed. Luckily I was able to get out of any more of her painful flirting by feigning that I needed to use the toilet. As I left the shop, Hermione pulled me to the alley next to it as Jean went to pull the car around. I told Hermione about my life over the last nineteen months and mentioned being surprised that Harry hadn’t said anything to her. Turns out she knew he was working with ‘Draco and someone else,’ but hadn’t mentioned me. She waved as her mum pulled up to the pavement and they drove away. 

Walking deeper into the alley, I checked to make sure the coast was clear before Disapparating home. Handing my things to one of the house-elves, I asked after Draco. 

“Young Master be in his study with Scarface,” the elf said with a bow. 

There was a name for Harry Potter I hadn’t heard yet. Making my way towards Draco’s private study, I stopped outside the door and looked in. They were sitting close to each other on the sofa and Draco was showing Harry something from a magazine. I knocked quietly and they jumped apart, faces rapidly turning red. Draco shoved the magazine hastily under the sofa before they both grabbed throw pillows and put them on their laps. 

“Hello, Father,” Draco said, his voice cracking. 

“Good evening boys.” I chose not to comment on their strange behaviour. 

“How was the book club?” Harry asked.

“Strangest thing happened, actually. Hermione Granger and her mother were there. Somehow they are part of the same club.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said. “That’s how I heard about it. Hermione was talking about going. Something about rebuilding her relationship with her mum.”

“And you didn’t think to warn me that a woman who was tortured in my home, whom I haven’t seen since we stood on opposite sides of the battlefield, would be there? And from the look she gave me, you didn’t warn her either.” 

“I… er…” Harry rubbed the back of his neck. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Potter?” Draco asked.

“Language, Draco.” I chastised him. 

“Swearing is clever and grown up.”

“I’m really sorry, Lucius.” Harry stood up. “I better go. Hermione is probably writing a Howler right now. I’ll see you tomorrow, Draco.”

The boys left the study and I waited for their footsteps to fade before I walked around the back of the sofa they were sitting on and picked up the magazine Draco had tossed aside. It was open and my eyebrows rose as I looked at the moving pictures of naked women on every page, including a few pages dedicated to identical twins. Setting the magazine on the coffee table, I left the study. If my son wanted to look at porn with another man, who was I to judge. 

**Week Two**

Landing in the alley outside the bookshop, I made sure the coast is clear before lifting my disillusionment charm. I’ve found that it's best to pop into existence while concealed because the Muggles that don’t like showering or wearing shoes seem to hang out in alleys. Harry said these Muggles are called Hobos. I still haven’t worked out which part of England they’re from, but I don’t think I’ll be visiting. 

The bookshop is mostly empty when I walk in, but the back room is full of most of the women from the week before. Agnes winks and me and starts to walk towards me. Trying to avoid her, I head over to make my cup of tea, but she beats me there. She smiles and I try not to grimace at the missing tooth. 

“Evening, Lucius,” she says, with a slight whistle. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Biting back my retort of ‘Of course you have, I’m gorgeous,’ I smile but say nothing. I have no idea how to interact with someone like her. And it’s not because she’s Muggle. I have no problem talking to Jean, Claire, or any of the other women here. But Agnes is… well she’s just gross. 

“In fact,” Agnes continued to talk, moving closer to me. “I read the whole book and thought about you while I did.”

“That’s lovely, Agnes. But don’t share any spoilers.” Jean says to her, saving me from having to reply. 

“Jean. It’s so lovely to see you.” Taking her hand, I kiss the back before remembering it isn’t done in the Muggle world. “How are you?”

“Simply _smashing_ , darling.” Jean replied in a strange accent. 

“Mum, stop pretending you're a posh English woman,” Hermione says with a laugh. “Your accent might be more London now, but you’re an Essex girl.”

“Lucius is the one who greeted me like I’m the Queen!”

“You’ll have to excuse my mum. She’s not used to your… aristocratic manners.”

Claire called the group to order and I made my way to the chairs to sit. Agnes tried to sit by me, so I quickly spun Hermione to the side so I could sit between her and her mother. It may have been poor manners, but there was no way I was sitting by her. I had a feeling if I sat there I would be fighting off her wandering hands all evening. 

We went over the first five chapters of the book. I didn’t contribute much to the conversation because, honestly, the book was boring. It was about a small town girl who moved to a big city and met a rich man who instantly wanted her. What a bunch of rubbish. I tried to put myself in the shoes of the male lead, but couldn’t imagine falling for someone so simple. Women of all walks of life had thrown themselves at me since I was of legal age, but I could never sleep with someone who’s social status was so far below my own. 

When the book club was over, I quickly made my way out of the room, not wanting Agnes to corner me again. I was a few steps into the alley when Jean called my name. 

“I’m about to go get my car, but I was wondering if you and your son would like to come over for dinner and game night tomorrow? Harry and Ginny will be there as well.”

Hermione was standing behind her mother and nodded to indicate that she was okay with the invitation. 

“Thank you, Jean. I would like that. Is there anything I can bring?” I asked. 

“Red wine would be lovely. Seven work for you?”

“It should be fine. I will owl you if Draco can’t make it.” I hesitated, thinking. “You can receive owl post, correct?”

“We can. Hermione has a wonderful barn owl that lives in the back garden.” 

  
  


* * *

Red wine bottles in hand, Draco and I appeared in the back garden of the Granger’s home. Hermione had sent the address and a picture of a tree they could appear under over to the Manor earlier in the day since we had never been there before. The London skyline can be seen in the distance and I’m surprised by how large the garden of their home and the ones I can see around them are. I always assumed that Londoners didn’t have much property, or at least normal London homes didn’t. 

Narcissa’s ancestral home was in Islington, and whilst that garden was charmed to be larger, the neighbouring ones were quite small. I tried to think of other homes I had been to in London as we made our way to the back door, but most wizards I knew lived outside of the city. It was much easier to hide magic when you weren’t living on top of someone else. 

“Lucius!” Jean called as she opened the back door. “And you must be Draco? Oh, you are as handsome as your father. Come in, come in!”

Draco smirked at the compliment and shook Jean’s hand as we made our way into the kitchen. I’ve never been in a Muggle house before and know I am probably being rude, but instead of talking, I turn in a circle and take in everything around me. 

There are things on the worktop with thick black or white ropes that are attached to the walls. I recognise one as a kettle that looks similar to the one that Draco’s therapist has in their office. The stove looks similar to the one the elves use at the Manor though. Just newer, shinier, and much smaller. There is a large black cupboard across the room from me that is humming slightly. I look over at Draco and he is as gobsmacked as I am. 

“Oh,” Jean says, pulling me away from my perusal. “Is this your first time in a Muggle house?”

“For both of us, yes,” I answer her. 

“How exciting! I love showing wizards Muggle technology.”

She took the bottles from us, setting them on the worktop in the middle of the room as she pointed thighs out to use. I was happy that I had been correct about the kettle. The microwave was interesting and a lot like a heating charm in my opinion. I was impressed with the toaster. It was while she was showing it to us that Hermione came in. 

“Muggle toast is _so_ much better than you’re used to,” Hermione told us. 

“No way,” Draco argued back. “I’ll admit the tea variety is better, but I refuse to believe you can make bread taste any different.”

I watched in amusement as they went back and forth. Jean was smiling too and ignored them in favour of putting two slices of bread into the toaster. I asked Jean how it worked and she tried to explain it before shrugging and telling me she had no clue, _‘it just does.’_ The toast popped up and I watched as Jean buttered the bread then cut it into pieces and handed it to each of us. 

I took a small bite and had to admit that Hermione was right. There was something about the way the bread wasn’t toasted as evenly as it was with magic that made it taste better. 

“Okay fine,” Draco said with a pout on his face. “This is good. But our pumpkin juice is better.”

* * *

I was back in my room at Malfoy Manor and thought about the night with the Grangers, Harry, and Ginny. Eating and playing games with them had been more fun than I had expected it to be. Richard, Hermione’s father, had been a nice surprise. I was slowly learning that Muggles weren’t the uneducated swine I had been led to believe. He was well spoken, and while he didn’t know much about the magical world, Richard was a wealth of knowledge on Muggle history. 

The board games had been strange though. We played something called Cluedo and I still wasn’t sure what the point was. With all the things Muggles had to entertain themselves with, multiple sports; books; telly and cinema; cars; and the theater, I couldn’t understand why they would need _more_ items to keep them busy. Hermione had been a great help when the rules were unclear to me. I was impressed by how patient and willing she was to explain a gameto me that was meant for kids. 

Harry had stopped me before we left for the night. He told me he was happy to see the progress I was making with becoming friends with Muggles. He even thought it was a good idea to become close to the Grangers since they were Muggle, but I wouldn’t have to worry about slipping up and talking about magic in front of them. Harry had called them ‘training wheel friends’, but I was still unclear on what training wheels were. 

One thing I did notice tonight was the way my son interacted with Harry and Ginny. I hadn’t thought much of the two men looking at porn together, but the way my son looked at Harry and his girlfriend made me wonder if he had feelings for the both of them. Maybe that magazine was Draco’s way of getting Harry comfortable with being turned on while around another man. A very Slytherin tactic.

I have known since Draco was eleven that he was… unusually aware of Harry, but Ginny came as a surprise. Triadic relationships weren’t unheard of in our world, and as long as Draco was happy, I didn’t really care who it was with anymore. But, the thought of Christmas with the Weasleys was a bit more than I wanted to think about tonight. 

Laying down in bed, I thought about how far away Thursday was. I was looking forward to seeing Hermione and her mother at the book club again. 

  
  


**Week Three**

Three weeks had passed since the book club started and after the first few chapters of _Different Shades of Black_ I officially hated the book. Normally when I read a book, I like to finish it as fast as possible. I love losing myself in the words and letting the world the author created surround me until that is my reality and nothing else matters. 

This book was one of the worst written pieces of literature I had ever had the misfortune to read. Not only was it a romance novel, something I would normally avoid, it was a poorly written piece of rubbish that was pretending to be about BDSM. I don’t know what qualifications the author had, but clearly the woman had never been spanked a single day in her life. I would be surprised if the chit had even had sex before. The sex was protrayed as filth, but was really nothing more than vanilla sex with a paddle or two. 

And don’t get me started on how physically impossible some of those positions were. 

The women in the group were talking about a specific scene where the female lead was sitting on the male lead’s lap and he was spanking her. They were going on — with lots of giggling between words — about how sexy it was. 

I couldn’t hold back any longer and huffed in annoyance. 

“Something wrong, Lucius?” Claire asked. 

“Sorry,” I stated, not really sorry, but I had to show some manners. “But the positioning of their bodies is not conducive to spanking. The angle is all wrong. There is no way he could — what was the phrase— oh yes, ‘ _turn her arse red’_ when she is sitting on his lap like that.”

“Are you an expert on spanking?” Agnes asked, looking me up and down.

“I’m not an expert, but I do have a basic grasp of how bodies work, and this isn’t correct.”

“Maybe you can demonstrate it on me?”

I bit back the bile in my throat at her suggestion. There was _no way_ I was putting her over my knee. 

“Now Agnes,” Claire interrupted. “You’re in a skirt and that wouldn’t be proper. Hermione’s in trousers.”

“What?” Hermione choked out. 

“Come on. Go sit on Lucius’ lap and he can show us all how to properly be spanked. I would, but I have bad knees.” 

Hermione was blushing, but at the insistence of the group around us, she stood up. Jean, giggling like I had never heard her do before, started to read from the book so Hermione knew the exact position she was supposed to get into. Draco and I had been going over to the Granger’s every Friday since I started attending the book club and because of our new friendship, I knew Jean was getting way too much enjoyment out of this. 

Mumbling and apology, Hermione sat on my lap, her back to my chest. Raising my hand, I lightly slapped the side of her hip. I bit back a chuckle as she jumped at the impact. 

“See what I mean?” I asked, looking around. “With her sitting on my lap this way, her bum is pressed against me.” And what a nice bum Hermione had. “There is no way for me to spank her and even reach her bum enough to turn it red. She would need to be laying across my lap or straddling my hips for that to work.”

“I’m not sure I get what you’re saying,” Jean said, tears of laughter running down her face. “I think you’ll need to show us.”

“Mum!” Hermione huffed, starting to move off my lap. 

“Scared I’ll hurt you, or scared you’ll like it?” I whispered into her ear as the room was begging us to continue the demonstration.

Like the proud little lioness she was, Hermione raised her chin. “Which way would you like me first?”

At the insistence of the room, Hermione turned and straddled my lap. I turned up my occlumency shields just enough that I wouldn’t get hard while she sat astride me. Her thighs cradled my hips perfectly and I could feel the heat of her cunt through her denims. I pushed her hair over one shoulder and addressed the room again. 

“In this position, I can cradle my lover, giving her the care she needs — something that is grossly ignored in this book, by the way — and still give her the punishment she earned.”

Wrapping one arm around her upper back to hold her body to mine, I pulled my right hand back, cupped my hand a little and landed a deceptively loud, but not hard, spank to her arse. Not wasting time, I did it again, this time hitting the other cheek.

“Do you see the difference?” I asked. 

Jean was still laughing at her daughter’s predicament, but the rest of the ladies were staring at us with an intensity that was almost unnerving. 

“And,” Claire said, her voice thick. “The other position?”

“Hermione, kitten,” I whispered in her ear. “Lay across my lap.”

As she moved off me, I could see her eyes had a slightly glazed look to them and internally smirked. Guess the girl liked the way it felt when I spanked her. I helped her lay across my lap and positioned her correctly before landing two blows to her backside. I spanked her with a little more force than I had used before, but not hard. As soon as the second one landed, Hermione was off my lap and back in her chair. She swung her hair forward to cover her face, but I could see it was bright red. 

The ladies around us started talking about the difference between my demonstration and the description in the book. Making sure no one was paying attention to me, I leaned towards Hermione. 

“Are you okay?” I asked her. 

“Mortified, but physically I’m fine,” she said. “Can we talk after?”

I met Hermione in the alley next to the shop as soon as the book club ended. I looked for her mum, but Jean had already made her way to her car and driven off. As soon as I walked into the alley, I felt Hermione’s magic wash over me and had a split second view of Muggle repelling and notice-me-not wards being erected before she launched herself at me, wrapping her legs around my waist. I stumbled slightly but gripped her arse in my hands and turned so her back was pressed against the wall.

“Please tell me you’re as turned on as I am?” Hermione pleaded. 

“I had to block my thoughts just to keep from fucking you in there,” I admitted. 

“Thank the gods.”

My cock was as stiff as granite and I rocked it hard against her centre. I could feel how turned on she was through our trousers, so much hotter than she had been before. Lifting my face, I took in the lusty look she was giving me and pressed my lips against hers. I swallowed her moans as I opened my mouth and licked the seam of her lips with my tongue. As soon as she opened up to me, I pushed into her. 

Merlin alive, she tasted amazing. I wanted to feast on her mouth for hours. I didn’t care that I was in public. Or that I was humping her against the wall like a randy teenager. I just wanted to feel her body pressed against mine. I wanted to hear her scream as she came in my arms. 

“Fuck, Lucius,” Hermione cried. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me, kitten.” 

She wasn’t the only one that was close. I hadn’t felt anything like this in years. Narcissa sure as hell never made me feel anything close to this good, even when I was inside of her. Hermione’s hands found my hair and she pulled hard as I continued to thrust against her. She gave me a hard look and spoke to me.

“Lucius, I want you.”

“I’m yours, kitten. All yours.”

Her teeth bit down where my neck and shoulder met and I lost control. Her yells filled my ears and her body started to convulse as she came against me. I could feel her wetness spreading against my trousers and with a cry of her name from my lips, I lost it. My come exploded from me and soaked my clothes, and probably hers as well. 

“Circe’s fucking tits, Lucius.” Hermione was panting. 

“My sentiments exactly. Would you like to grab a late dinner?”

“I’d love to.”

**Week Eight**

After eight weeks, tonight was the last day of the book club, and while I was happy to be done with the book, part of me was going to miss this group of women. Well, not Agnes. She had been brave enough last week to slip me her phone number and told me she was always available for a _bootie call_. I was horrified when Jean had to explain to me what that was. Sure, Hermione and I, after she strong-armed me into getting a mobile, had met up a few times late at night. But we were courting. 

Or dating, as Hermione called it. 

One thing I don’t understand about Muggles is that they _date_ just for fun. They don’t court each other with the intent to marry and have kids. Some of them just spend time together so they have a steady person to sleep with when the mood arises. 

Well, call me old-fashioned but I am not wasting my time on someone if I don’t see it going somewhere. And even though Hermione and I haven’t even had sex yet, I see it going places. Our late night meetings have always ended with her in my arms, a mess in my pants, and a strong desire to bend her over and fuck her until she forgets her name. But due to our history, we decided to take things slow. She’d been to the Manor, but had yet to spend the night.

But I have been enjoying our weekly dinners with our families. Hermione considers Harry her brother, and her parents have all but adopted him. I had no idea that he was living with them until last week. I also found out that Hermione is taking her gap year to rebuild her relationship with her parents. On the fourth dinner, we spent a long evening talking all about the war and the sacrifice she had to make, modifying their memories and sending them away. 

It wasn’t a fun night, and there were tears shed by all of us. I apologised to Ginny for planting that diary on her. I _knew_ it was a dark object, not as dark as it was. But still, no child should have a possessed book planted on them by a grown man, no matter what the reason. Draco apologised to all of them for being _‘a spoiled little tosser’_ and Lucius smiled as Harry kissed him and said he would forgive Draco if Draco could forgive him for the same thing. Two weeks after that, Draco officially joined Harry and Ginny’s relationship and walks around grinning like a loon. 

I have been beyond impressed with Hermione’s parents. They knew the history between my family and their children, but they were never once rude. I can see where Hermione gets her grace from. They were as welcoming the first day as they are now. When Hermione told them we were dating, Richard told me with a smile on his face that if I hurt her, he would have Harry kill me. 

“Are you ready to go over the final two chapters?” Claire asks, bringing me out of my thoughts and back into the book club. “Who’d like to start?”

“Since we’re ending,” a woman who never speaks and whose name I’ve forgotten says, “can I just make a complaint?”

“Sure Karen. What’s on your mind?”

“I’d like to talk to your manager, or whomever picked this book. It is not appropriate to be reading.”

“What?” Claire asked, nonplussed. 

“It is full of _sex,_ ” evidently that word had to be whispered, “and other depraved acts. I don’t know why anyone would read it.”

“Yet you read it,” Hermione said forcefully. “And don’t think we didn’t see you over there, squirming in your chair as we read aloud. You liked it, you just don’t want to admit that you did.”

“How dare you?” Karen sputtered. 

“Yes, yes, how dare I. Now either admit you like reading about sex like a normal person, or go home. No one stays in a book club that’s reading a sex book for eight weeks unless they want to.”

I laughed as Karen looked around for support but received none. She grabbed her things and stormed out, but I only had eyes for my fierce kitten beside me. Sex might not be talked about openly in my society, but I was glad the woman next to me wasn’t some frigid pureblood princess who only liked it with the lights off and on her back. 

“Do you think Lucius can act out that last scene with me?” Agnes looked around the room. 

“The one that says,” Claire opened her book towards the end and started reading. “ _‘Please, Master. I need your hard penis to penetrate my moist vagina!’_?”

The room was silent as Agnes nodded her head. I watched in horror as she stood and started walking towards me. 

“What in the actual fuck?” I turned to see Mrs Stebbings, the eighty year old great grandmother, mouth wide staring at Anges. “What is wrong with you? Lucius wants to do that with Hermione.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me. There was something about an old lady telling the room that I wanted to sleep with Hermione that was just too much for me. 

Standing, I addressed the ladies. “On that note, I think I will take my leave. Hermione, would you like to join me?”

She waved goodbye to the group, told her mum she’d be home later, and followed me up the stairs. We made our way into the alley and as soon as the coast was clear, Hermione jumped into my arms like she had done five weeks ago. 

“Take me home?”

* * *

“Would you like to stay the night?” I whispered into Hermione’s ear. 

When we had arrived at the Manor, Draco, Harry, and Ginny were just sitting down to dinner. Since we hadn’t eaten, we had joined them. But the hour was growing later, and I wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and have my way with the beautiful woman sitting next to me. I was done waiting, and hopefully she was too. 

“Sure.” 

We said out goodnights to the trio and made our way upstairs. Hermione sent her Patronus off to her parents letting them know she was staying over. I had a flash of indecision, but she assured me her parents understood she was a sexually active adult and as long as they knew she was safe, they were okay with her staying over. I showed her into my bedroom, but directed her to the sofa in front of the fireplace instead of the bed. 

“Everything okay?” she asked. 

“Before we take this to the next level, I wanted to talk to you,” I told her.

“Okay.”

“I know you said we were just dating, and while that is a new concept for me, I am willing to go along with it. But before we sleep together, I just want to make sure… well, I want to be sure that you’re not _dating_ anyone else.”

Hermione surprised me by crawling onto my lap and stradling my hips. 

“We might call it different things, Lucius, but you are the only man in my bed, and my thoughts.” She leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. “Now, would you like to finally _‘penetrate my moist vagina’_?”

“Only if you promise never to say that, or mention that book again.”

“I don’t know, there are a few scenes I wouldn’t mind acting out with you again.”

**Year Three**

It’s been exactly three years since I first walked down these stairs, but here I am again, walking towards another Muggle book club. This time the book is the second in the ‘Black Series’, _Darker Shade of Black._ I don’t want to be here, but alas, I am. 

Only this time, I’m not part of the book club. I’m only here because my wife forgot her copy. I try to be quiet as I walk in, but everyone turns to look at me. I smile at all the women I know in this room. Jean, my mother-in-law, holding my newborn baby, Elizabeth; My daughter-in-law, Ginny enormously pregnant with twins — we still don’t know which of her husbands is the father; and Claire, still leading the group, and recently returned from a mini-break with her new boyfriend Blaise Zabini — turns out he has a thing for _cougars_ that none of us knew about. 

Agnes and Karen no longer come to the weekly meetings, but old Mrs Stebbings is still as feisty as ever and pinches my arse as I hand Hermione her book. 

“Have fun ladies,” I call as I leave the room. 

Who knew attending a book club for a horrible book could lead to such a happy ending?


End file.
